


Not Alone

by RainaGath



Series: Nyala Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford one-shots [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Romantic Fluff, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-04
Updated: 2015-02-04
Packaged: 2018-03-10 12:03:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3289676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainaGath/pseuds/RainaGath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nyala Lavellan has just learned of the death of her clan. The only one able to comfort her is the templar she can't admit she has feelings for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Alone

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I've written that I've ever put somewhere other than my personal hard drive, so constructive criticism is welcome!
> 
> I got the idea for this fic in my most recent playthrough, when I managed to accidentally kill off my Lavellan's entire clan at the war table (damn it, Josephine!). I was really bothered by the fact that afterwards there was no mention of this whatsoever. It seemed to me that Lavellan would have some kind of reaction to having her home and family destroyed, or that someone would want to say "Hey, I'm sorry that your clan is dead." But nope, all you get is, "Whoops, my bad. Here's some gold. Later!"
> 
> On top of that, I had been trying to work out a way for Lavellan to romance Cullen from a role-playing standpoint. I personally wanted to romance Cullen because he's adorable, and what's not to like? But I was seriously drawing blanks as to why a Dalish elf who had likely grown up in an environment that was distrustful of humans all her life, and whose clan could very well have turned their back on her for choosing to associate with a human, would voluntarily choose to pursue a romance with him. I had been RPing that she was choosing to flirt with him because seeing him squirm was amusing, but as far as going for a legitimate romance was concerned, I was coming up short.
> 
> And then I killed her clan. Oops. But now with that hurdle out of the way, I had a gate open that actually paved the way for a romance that made sense for my Lavellan. This is how I imagined the fallout from her clan's death happening in my head, and how Cullen tries to help her through it.
> 
> I took a few liberties that might not totally jive with canon, but they're relatively minor. For instance, we don't know what Cullen and the Inquisitor actually talked about during their chess game, but since the scene itself includes several fade-outs, I think it's open to interpretation. Cullen also never comes right out and says why he doesn't write his sister very often, but I'd like to think that there's a reason for it. Whether I came up with one that actually makes sense is another matter, but this something that made sense to me.

Nyala let out a heavy sigh as she stepped outside her quarters to make her way to the war room. The war council meetings were tiresome affairs and for all the long hours the discussions lasted, very little of the deliberations were spent productively. Nyala often found her role devolved into that of a mediator, attempting to keep the peace between her three fellow council members, and often failing. It grew increasingly tedious to placate her colleagues when they were all convinced their way was the only right way. For all Nyala’s grievances, however, there was one thing she looked forward to whenever she attended these meetings: watching Cullen make eyes at her when he was sure she wasn’t looking.

When Nyala had first joined the Inquisition, she immediately took a notice to Cullen’s effectiveness in training their troops. Though the templar’s technique lacked the grace exhibited by the warriors in her clan, she could not deny that whatever he was doing was working. The troops looked tougher and fiercer every day, and Cullen was undoubtedly a strong leader that earned the loyalty of every one of his men. He was also, however, the most tightly wound man that Nyala had ever met in her life.

Her attempts at flirting with him began as a game, at first. Though she justified it as a way of helping Cullen to relax a little, in truth, she liked watching him squirm as her innuendos became more and more blatant. She had thought Cullen would jump out of his skin when she asked him if his templar training had included a vow of celibacy.

When she first spoke with him alone after their arrival at Skyhold, Nyala had intended for it to be business as usual. After her brush with death at the hands of Corypheus, she longed for normal, uneventful banter. Being the only one capable of closing rifts in the Fade, she had no choice but to join the Inquisition. Now, not only was she responsible for saving the world from the Breach, she’d also have to defeat an ancient darkspawn magister. All the while, she was being hailed as the herald of Andraste, the bride of a god she didn’t even follow. As if enough wasn’t already expected of her, she had just been bestowed the title of Inquisitor.

Her games with Cullen may have been a bit manipulative, but she was nevertheless glad he had made it out alive. She pushed her personal feelings aside, instead choosing to believe that she was simply pleased that the Inquisition’s troops had not lost their commander. It came as a surprise, then, when she told him, "I’m relieved that you—that so many made it out."

Her recovery was by no means smooth, and she was sure her slip had been as baffling to him as it was to her. Was her encounter with Corypheus really so unsettling that subconsciously, she was actually starting to care for him? She liked him well enough—this she could not deny. But actually having feelings for him? A human? 

It wasn’t long after this that they shared a game of chess together. Nyala couldn’t help but be surprised at how normal being alone with him felt. Cullen was apparently comfortable enough with her to tell her about his family, a personal gesture that truly humbled her. They spent over an hour sharing stories from their childhoods. The conversation felt so natural that Nyala didn’t think twice before telling him that they should spend more time together.

As soon as the words left her mouth, she had a brief, horrifying moment of clarity. She had never felt this at ease with another person, and now she was experiencing it with a human, of all people. She tried to convince herself it would be easier to let these feelings go. But her resolve always failed once she saw him watching her from across the war table. Tiring as these meetings were, these insignificant glances were all that gave her peace during this ordeal.

Opening the door to the war room, Nyala expected to see her three colleagues already in heated debate, as was typical. She was surprised, then, when she found the room occupied, but deadly silent. Cullen’s eyes were immediately upon her, as she expected…but Josephine and Leliana were also eyeing the Inquisitor as she closed the door behind her. She couldn’t help but be unsettled.

"What’s going on?" Nyala asked, unsure if she wanted to know the answer.

"Inquisitor," Josephine said, barely unable to hide her unease, "we have received word from the Duke of Wycome regarding his aid for Clan Lavellan."

Nyala felt her heart leap into her throat. "And?"

Josephine hesitated to continue. Leliana picked up on this, but not soon enough for it to escape Nyala’s notice. "Inquisitor…the Duke’s forces arrived too late. Clan Lavellan could not be recovered. I am so sorry."

All at once, Nyala felt as if she was no longer in Skyhold. This could not be real. Her clan, her family, her home, was gone. She knew this was always a risk with the state the world was in, but now that it’s happened… She attempted to will the feeling back into her legs, swallowing dryly as she tried to keep her breathing even. "I…I see." She shifted uncomfortably and absentmindedly rubbed the back of her neck, trying to keep herself grounded and growing afraid she was failing. "You’ll excuse me if I…I’m sorry." She turned and walked back toward the door, fearing her self-control would leave her at any moment.

"Inquisitor," Cullen said gently. Any other time, Nyala would have found comfort in his voice. Now, she wanted nothing more than to be away from him, where she knew she wouldn’t make a fool of herself.

"Please." One word was all Nyala could manage before exiting the war room and leaving her concerned associates behind.

When she finally found herself in the privacy of her quarters, she let the tears flow freely. She had wanted her own life outside the clan, but not like this. Though life in the clan could be frustrating and dismal at times, she always found comfort in knowing she could go back someday once this was over. But now, the only home she’d ever had was gone. She’d always wanted to make a name for herself, but not at the cost of losing her family. She was now an elf in a human world, completely alone.

With nothing but her grief to keep her company, Nyala didn’t know whether minutes or hours had passed. She was startled back to the present at the sound of gentle knocking at her door. She let out an annoyed groan, wishing that she had the luxury of ignoring the intrusion but knowing she couldn’t afford to in her position. She took several deep breaths, wiping her eyes on her sleeve, trying her best to make herself presentable but aware that it probably wouldn’t do her much good. On unsteady legs, she crossed the room, placed a shaking hand on the knob, and allowed the door to creak open.

She felt an awkward sense of simultaneous relief and tension when she saw Cullen standing on the other side. She fought the urge to send him away, determined that despite her pain, she was nothing if not professional. "Commander," she said, perhaps a bit more coldly than she intended. "What can I do for you?"

"Inquisitor," Cullen said, clearly unsure of himself and failing to hide it. "I apologize for the intrusion, but…I had hoped to speak with you."

Nyala sighed heavily and stepped to one side, allowing Cullen to cross the threshold into her quarters. Desperately wanting to avoid the discussion that she knew Cullen wanted to have, she decided to fill the silence herself. "How are the troops faring?" she asked, immediately cursing herself for her poor attempt at diffusing the tension.

"Inquisitor—" Cullen clearly meant to change the subject, but Nyala interrupted him before he could succeed.

"If we are to be facing rogue Wardens with bound demons at Adamant, they need to be in peak condition," Nyala continued, determined not to let herself lose her composure in front of Cullen.

"Inquisitor—"

"It’s obvious your troops are in good form, but we can’t be too careful. This is unlike anything we’ve ever faced before and we can’t afford to—"

_“Nyala.”_

Her breath hitched and her ability to come up with anything else to derail the obvious direction the conversation was heading failed. Cullen had never called her by her name before. It was always respectfully "Herald" or "Inquisitor." The sudden use of her given name rendered her unable to speak.

Taking advantage of Nyala’s stunned silence, Cullen shifted his stance and took a steadying breath before finally speaking. "I’m sorry about your clan."

Although Nyala knew this was coming, she still found herself unprepared for Cullen’s display of empathy. Feeling tears pressing against the back of her eyes, she shut them tightly and shook her head. "Don’t be," she said, trying with all her might to keep her voice from cracking. "This is a war. People die. I’m no different from…" Her will betrayed her and her voice caught in her throat. Frustrated at her inability to maintain her allusion of decorum, she dropped her eyes to the ground and took a shaky breath, attempting to calm herself.

She hadn’t noticed that Cullen had stepped closer to her. She could barely contain a gasp of surprise when she felt his arms around her, wrapping her in a strong, comforting embrace. She stiffened momentarily, unsure of how to respond to the sudden closeness of the man who had been the source of so much confusion for her over the past few months. It didn’t take long for mental exhaustion to take its hold, however, and she was soon unable to hold back her tears. She wept openly, relaxing into Cullen’s embrace and steadying herself against him. Her body shaking with heavy sobs, Nyala was almost embarrassed to be showing this kind of emotion in front of Cullen, but being in his arms felt so natural, so soothing…she hardly felt inclined to object.

Slowly, Nyala began to regain control of herself, her tears slowing and her breathing returning to normal. After a few moments of silence, Cullen spoke quietly. "I thought I had lost my family after the Blight."

Nyala furrowed her brow, confused at the unexpected confession. "What?"

"Just listen. Please," Cullen said softly, giving her a reassuring squeeze. "After the Blight ended, I wrote to my sister. I hadn’t heard from her in months. I sent word to our family home to receive word on how they fared. But word never came." He paused, as if he was having difficulty finding the words to continue. Resting her head against his chest, Nyala could hear his pulse quicken. She suddenly felt guilty for allowing him to press himself like this.

"You don’t have to—"

"Please," Cullen said, firmly but gently. "I spent months waiting to hear from her. My transfer to Kirkwall was imminent and I still had no idea if they survived. I had begun to fear the worst." He swallowed, resting his chin on the top of her head. "Just days before my transfer, I finally received a letter from my sister. They had been forced to abandon our home during the peak of the Blight. They had settled in South Reach before she was able to send word to me. By the time my letter would have arrived, they had already been forced to flee." He let out a heavy sigh. "That’s why I find it difficult to write my sister. Ever since the Blight, I fear I’ll send word and receive nothing in return…because I’ve already lost them."

Stunned at the sincerity of his revelation, Nyala could think of nothing to say. Instead she wrapped her arms around Cullen’s waist, feeling a need to let him know that he wasn’t alone, not now. She inhaled slowly. He smelled of musk and leather.

After what seemed like hours, Cullen pulled away, placing a reassuring hand on Nyala’s shoulder. "I don’t know what it’s like to lose my family," he said quietly. "But I know what it’s like to fear that I have, and I would wish that feeling on no one." He smiled softly. "If you ever want to talk..."

Nyala gave a sad smile, her heart still heavy but finding comfort in the compassion of the templar standing before her. "Cullen…thank you. Truly."

Cullen nodded his head ever so slightly and met Nyala’s eyes. She had never really looked into Cullen’s eyes. Her insecurities about their meeting now long gone, she felt safe here in his arms, under his gaze. He lifted his hand and rested it gently on her cheek, and she leaned into his touch, surprised at how natural it felt to be with him like this. She couldn’t help but think if he would bend down just a bit…

Her thoughts were interrupted by Cullen clearing his throat suddenly. "I should…get back to my duties," he said quietly. "And you should…have some time to yourself." He let his hand fall from her face and took a step back, finally putting some space between them. Nyala sighed and nodded, folding her arms across her body, suddenly missing the lack of contact.

"I’ll ensure no one disturbs you," Cullen said. Nyala nodded her head again and watched Cullen turn on his heel and head for the door. "Inquisitor," he said, bowing his head at Nyala before stepping through the door and closing it behind him.

Nyala sighed heavily. _Damn._ There was no point in denying it now. She had feelings for Cullen. And now, she had no clan to discourage her.


End file.
